


John is right up Sherlock's alley

by fantasybean



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Dom John Watson, Dom/sub, Dominant, Face-Fucking, M/M, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Stag Nights & Bachelor Parties, Sub Sherlock Holmes, Submissive, Top John Watson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:14:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27869005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantasybean/pseuds/fantasybean
Summary: It's the night of John's stag-do, and when a conversation with Sherlock about sexual fulfilment brings up desires in John that are reflected in the face of his best man... well, one phone call later and a newly single John Watson is pulling Sherlock Holmes into the alleyway beside the club.
Relationships: Mary Morstan & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 149





	John is right up Sherlock's alley

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for a friendly reader, who requested dominant John being as dominant as could be on the night of his stag do! Hope you enjoy!  
> Also, lowkey hope you enjoy my punny fic title.

It was their third club of the night, and they were riding that beautiful wave of being not quite drunk not quite sober just as Sherlock had predicted. John wasn’t convinced it would work the whole night but he was enjoying not being totally legless so early on like he used to get on nights out with his old army mates.

Sherlock handed John another tall, measured, glass of beer as they sat in a booth together and chatted over the thumping music. Sherlock was leaning into John’s side as they conversed, and both were staring at each other’s lips under the pretence it was just to understand the words better over the music. In reality, they stared at each other’s lips rather a lot with or without music.

“So Mary’s ‘the one’ then? Do you believe in this ‘the one’ concept?” Sherlock asked loudly.

“I don’t know. I’ve always been a bit of a romantic, thought maybe there is someone who is perfect out there! But she’s my first serious relationship since uni. In Afghanistan it was often just quick fucks in the showers to get you through. But nah, none of that anymore. None of anything that exciting! Mary is great, she really is! But I never expected to be with someone so… sexually tame.” John admitted. He’d never spoken about his sex life with Sherlock before – it was a line they’d not crossed. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was standing on the edge of a cliff called marriage and wondering whether his best friend might be able to pull him back from the edge before it was too late. But John just let himself talk.

“Tame? That’s not the Captain Watson I’ve come to hear about.”

“Hear about? Who’ve you spoken to?” John squinted.

“Mike Stamford may have indulged my curiosities about you. And my goodness, you were busy at University, weren’t you?” Sherlock smirked and John felt a slight blush crawl up his cheeks.

“Well. I was experimenting.”

“Oh, me too. Though mine was more with various drugs.”

“Mmm.” John hummed "That wasn't my scene, as you can imagine."

“Indeed. Come on. Tell me. What did you find out you enjoy from your experimental times? And does Mary not fit that requirement?” Sherlock frowned slightly.

“Well… let’s put it simply. If your brother is to be believed you’re not the most experienced bloke in the room, so I won’t overcomplicate it for you. Basically. I like to dominate. Be in control. I like sex to be exciting, rough, intense. And Mary. She’s great, she’s kind and gentle and funny. And that extends to the bedroom. She’s not really interested in my kind of sex. So it’s pretty gentle.” John shrugged, feeling a little deflated at the thought of that kind of sex life being the only thing he’d have now and forever more “I dunno… I guess I’ll just have to keep the good old fucks in my memories.”

“John, you enjoy sex, yes?”

John gave sherlock a look that just said ‘duh’.

“It’s important to you?”

“Well, yeah. Part of why I like it so rough and so intense is because of the connection. There’s nothing like it, Sherlock.” John stared into Sherlock’s grey calculating gaze.

“Then why her?” Sherlock asked "As your spouse?"

“Well… I… she’s great. And I love her.”

“Sure you do. Mary’s a wonderful woman. But I’ve done my fair share of research into reasons why marriages breakdown. It’s riveting stuff, and in extreme circumstances that information became helpful on our cases. There's nothing quite as dangerous as a broken heart. But besides all that; if she doesn’t fulfil you sexually, then the likelihood for divorce will be high.” Sherlock rattled off his information “Get yourself someone who will let you fuck them just how you want to. Hard and rough. Dominate them.” As he said those last few sentences Sherlock’s voice dropped lower still and his face seemed to lean closer and closer into John’s.

“Tell me… tell me what you like, then? Sexually? Have you ever-?”

“Of course I have. For data.” Sherlock cut in “And I’ll have you know I like to be dominated. Rough. Hard. Powerful.”

John’s heart was thumping in his ears as he and Sherlock stared into each other’s blown pupils, breathing each other in, mere centimetres apart.

“Two minutes.” John growled and stormed out of the club.

* * *

Stood outside in the chilled midnight air John spoke into his phone “Who’s that in the background? Well, fuck it, it doesn’t matter… seriously it doesn’t. I… Mary, this is a mistake. We’re not right for each other… We can’t get married… But I don’t want to end up resenting you, nor want you resenting me… yeah, mhmm… look, we can talk more tomorrow… don’t even think about it… Tomorrow, Mary. Yeah… Bye.” He hung up and turned around to go back into the club only to find the man he was going to return to was already in the doorway.

“You ended it. Interesting.” Sherlock said with a head tilt.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why?” John raised an eyebrow as Sherlock stepped up to him.

“I know why.”

“Do you now?”

“Yes. But how about you show me instead?” Sherlock challenged him.

John needed no further invitation, he pulled Sherlock down into a desperate bruising kiss. After so many years, so much between them – it was never going to be anything else but desperate. Years in the making.

“Oh J-… you’re good at that…” Sherlock gasped as John kissed down his neck then back up to his mouth.

“I may be good with my mouth but I think we should put yours to proper use.” John pulled away, grabbed Sherlock by the shoulder and marched him into a side alley by the club. They could still hear the thumping bass of the speakers, but otherwise the air was still and quiet and just filled with their rushed breathing.

Sherlock let himself be manhandled into the alley and John guided him down to his knees. He was harder than he’d ever been, and looking at the large tenting in John’s jeans, he wasn’t alone.

John unbuckled his belt with a scary amount of ease for a man who seemingly hadn’t had any truly decent sex in such a while.

“Oh my…” Sherlock gasped as John pulled his cock and balls out from his underwear. He was big. Bigger than Sherlock had imagined.

“You’re going to take it all.” John growled, pulled Sherlock’s bottom jaw down with his hand and fed himself into his mouth.

Sherlock took as much as he could and John almost came at the sight of his mouth stretched wide around him, of the tears in the corner of his eyes at taking such a large cock.

“If it’s too much, tap my wrist twice. Got it?” John said quickly.

Sherlock hummed his affirmation around John and that was all he needed before he twined his hands in Sherlock’s dark curls and began fucking into his mouth.

Sherlock loosened his jaw and widened his throat as much as he could but couldn’t help how much saliva was escaping down his chin as John’s heavy cock slid in and out of his mouth. John’s balls slapped against his chin and obscene noises came from Sherlock’s abused throat.

“Yeah.. that’s it. Take it.” John growled, tugging at Sherlock’s hair.

Just when Sherlock’s jaw began to ache to a point where his erection was flagging, John pulled him off and stood him up. “Turn around.”

Sherlock did as he was told on slightly shaky legs, and as soon as he faced the wall John pushed him against it. One hand on his back, pushing Sherlock’s face into the bricks, the other reached around and undid his belt and trousers. They fell down to his ankles in a heap of expensive fabric.

“Mmm… no underwear. Mr Holmes. You’re practically ready for me already.” John smirked, he dropped his hand from Sherlock’s back so he could use both of them to grasp the globes of Sherlock’s arse.

Sherlock gasped as a blunt finger started breaching him without warning “I…”

“I’ve got a condom.” John said and Sherlock heard the tear and the tell-tale sounds of it being rolled onto the man’s cock. Then John reached around and pushed his fingers into Sherlock’s mouth to wet them before returning a hand to his hole and pushing in again, a little easier this time.

All Sherlock could do was stand there in the darkened alleyway, his chest and face leaning against the wall and his arse pulled back into John’s stern grip. The soldier making as quick a work as possible of stretching Sherlock enough so it didn’t hurt.

“C-can’t you… find my… prostate?” Sherlock gasped.

“I’m a Doctor, Sherlock. I know exactly where to find your prostate.” John said and put a third finger in.

“Th-th-ah!-Then why not…”

“I don’t want you coming quite yet. Your prostate can wait for my cock.” He stated then pulled his fingers out. Sherlock felt empty for but a moment before a large force pressed back again. Hot and heavy.

John had a hand on Sherlock’s shoulder and another on his hip, and just as the tip of his cock breeched Sherlock, John paused for a second, then slammed in.

“Oh, fuck!” Sherlock nearly yelled.

“Quiet now. Unless you want someone finding you being fucked against a back alley wall.” John growled into Sherlock’s ear.

Sherlock bit his lip and gripped onto the bricks in front of him desperately as John placed both hands on his hips now and pounded into him. It was faster than anything Sherlock had ever had before, and “oh my God!” there was the prostate. John had got it in record time and was relentlessly fucking right into it.

John squeezed the pale skin of Sherlock’s hips and rutted up almost angrily “You fucking menace. This is my fucking stag do. And here you are. Best. Man. Getting fucked by the groom.”

Sherlock couldn’t respond, the feeling, the power of John behind him – in and out and in and out – was all he could focus on.

“You’re perfect like this, Sherlock. I’m going to have you and fuck you. So many times you’ll barely be able to sit in that armchair of yours.” John was nearly whispering now as he watched his cock disappear again and again into Sherlock’s tight hole “You’re so tight.” He growled.

“John… John…” Sherlock chanted, his eyes rolled up into his head.

“Cum, Sherlock. Do it.” John thrusted harder.

“Ah!Ah! Ah, fuckkkk… I’m. I’m coming. I can’t… Keep… John Keep… Yes…. YES!” Sherlock felt his hands scratching against the brick wall as he dragged them across it, seeking some sort of grip as he rode wave after wave of orgasm that struck through him. It seemed to go on as John kept fucking into him.

John stopped abruptly, his cock fully impaling Sherlock. Sherlock’s hole clenched around him. The detective’s cum was plastered all over his own stomach. John held him up with an arm wrapped around his chest and Sherlock gasped as his orgasm passed.

“That was… that was amazing, John…” Sherlock gasped in a daze.

“Good. Got your grip okay?” John asked.

“Y-yeah, why?” Sherlock frowned but John didn’t need to verbally answer. He just pulled back then slammed back in again “Oh. Oh my Godddd…” Sherlock’s eyes widened as he felt John pick his pace back up and push into Sherlock again and again. His pace rapid and rough “John… John.”

“Take it. I know you can. You were made for me, Sherlock Holmes. Look at your hole just taking me. Fucking perfect.” John gasped and felt his own orgasm building.

“Yes. Yes, John.” Sherlock whined, a tear escaping at the immensely overwhelming feeling of it all.

“Uhhh.” John groaned into the back of Sherlock’s neck. Pushed in, his orgasm ripped through him. He pushed in a few more times then just stilled and breathed.

Sherlock let John take a moment and waited for him to move first.

John pulled out of Sherlock and pulled the condom off, tying it and throwing it in a nearby bin. Sherlock gasped at the gaping emptiness he felt. His legs felt like jelly. He could hear John doing up his own zipper and belt buckle and wondered how on Earth he was going to sort himself out. But alas, rescue came from the man who just incapacitated him. John pulled his trousers up, and tucked him in.

“Come on. Taxi.” John looped an arm through Sherlock’s and pulled the man towards the road. Sherlock didn’t speak for a while, in a daze of pleasure and simultaneously cataloguing every last moment into his mind palace.

John got him into a cab and Sherlock leaned against him as the car started moving towards their home.

“Did you like that?” John asked into Sherlock’s sweaty forehead.

“Mhmmm. We must do that again.” Sherlock sounded tired to himself.

“Agreed.” John smiled “It surprised me how submissive you were considering what you’re like normally.”

“Well… everyone has to have something that helps them… relax.”

John reached around Sherlock and subtly put his hand down the back of his lover’s trousers. He eased a finger into Sherlock’s hot hole and the man winced.

“Too much?” John asked without removing it.

“N-no… it’s… it’s good.” Sherlock wiggled a little to get comfortable then rested back into John’s side as the man quietly fingered him in the back of a London cab. “This is all going to be rather fun, isn’t-ah-it?” Sherlock whispered into John’s shoulder.

“Oh God, yes.” John chuckled.

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to leave a kudo or a comment - it's much appreciated!


End file.
